When a dog dies, the physical space a dog filled while living–the bed by the fireplace, the worn circle of carpet under your desk, the harness on the hook by the door–becomes an echo.

When a dog dies, some people say, “You’ll get another,” or “He was a good dog.” Other people, my people, send love and lift you up, but say little because there are no words. At least, not any that make sense.

When a dog dies, the world moves on from the loss that cracked you open and split your heart because, yes, your dog was a good dog, and yes, you’ll get another someday, but not this dog. This dog is gone, but he fills so much space with his echo.

When a dog dies–no, when your dog dies–the world contracts because there’s literally nothing that will ever recreate or replace that specific bond, that specific relationship. Of course you’ll love other dogs and develop wonderful, strong relationships with other dogs, but this dog is gone. This relationship, this friendship also dies when a dog dies.

I have the tactile memory of my hand in his fur: His back was short and wiry, oily. His neck was thick and fuzzy below his ears. The fur on his forehead was soft and silky, especially along the blond patch on his forehead.

I have the muscle memory of my right arm holding his leash: He walked so nicely alongside me until there was a possibility of food or being petted by a stranger, then he lurched forward in joy.

I have the emotional memory of the many hours we spent in various animal hospitals as he waged two battles against cancer and numerous battles against non-food-items that he shouldn’t have consumed.

I have the pride and humor and love and tenaciousness he brought to everything he did, from his therapy dog work to traveling the country to playing games with his brothers and sister to napping with abandon.

I have all that and so much more, plus gobs of pictures and videos that I can’t look at yet without that aching echo.

But what I don’t have is him.

When a dog dies, it changes everything: the landscape, the color.

When a dog dies–no, when your dog dies–that echo simply becomes a part of you.

It is with the heaviest of hearts that I have to share with you: Emmett passed away over the weekend. He left peacefully and at home.

(My favorite picture of Emmett ever, 2008.)

His loss has left a hole in our hearts and in our home.

We’re going to take some time to grieve, then I’ll be back to share the story of his life and all the changes he’s wrought in ours. But, for now, I leave you with the quote that I believe sums up his heart and soul:

I read some quote recently about the caterpillar turning into the butterfly. One life ending, the other beginning. It was supposed to be inspirational, but the image stuck with me.

Because it’s not really a beginning or an ending. It’s just a continuation of the same. It only looks different. A caterpillar basically digests itself with its own enzymes, becomes something like a goo with small clumps of chunky cells (maybe more like a stew than a goo?), and then all that liquidy glop comes together to become the butterfly. The thing is… stimuli that happens to the caterpillar is remembered by the butterfly. Nuts, right? It’s the same little being. Just different. (Seriously. It’s nuts.)

Why is this image stuck in my head?

It’s feeling a bit like an analogy of our life right now, though I’m not sure if we’re supposed to be the caterpillar or the butterfly. Frankly, I think we’re the goo.

I’m super opposed to self-pity. I’m relentlessly positive, putting a silver lining on just about any circumstance or situation or curve ball life throws this way.

But, man. I’m exhausted.

Between Emmett’s cancer round 1, followed by my cancer and John’s relocation to Louisiana, followed by Emmett’s cancer round 2, followed by John’s relocation back to Bloomington, followed by losing John’s dad, followed by Lukey’s cancer and amputation and treatment, followed by the Bloomington job not working out for John and relocating to Indy, followed by losing Lucas… and now…

Emmett’s health is failing. It’s been both gradual and sudden. Gradual in the sense that it’s taken since fall 2015 to get to where he is now with his declining mobility, but sudden in the sense that in the last month he’s gotten to the point where he can’t really hoist himself out of his bed without help.

There’s something wrong with his spine. We can do an MRI to see if we can figure out what. Best case? We swap one med for another to maybe alleviate some of the pressure. Worst case? Well, there are several. We spoke with his vet today. She suggested a quality-of-life assessment at Purdue.

My head knows the end isn’t far off.

My heart can’t take that knowing.

We are struggling, too, with a different kind of grief, one that I haven’t shared here. It’s the caterpillar and the butterfly again, though right now, like with Emmett, we are stuck in the goo.

Last fall, John and I decided to pursue an adoption. Not of the furball kind, but of the human kind. In this case, our heads and our hearts are aligned: We know this is what we’re meant to do.

And it’s really a joy-filled decision for us, and we’ve loved every step in the process–from the classes to the home study to getting to know other adoptive families. It’s been a remarkable, soulful journey. We know this is our path.

And yet. The goo.

We were chosen by a lovely woman. We met her and connected. We shared our lives for a few short weeks, and she called us when she went into labor six weeks early. We were there, holding her hand, when a perfect baby girl was born.

For reasons that are remarkably complex yet super straightforward–like the caterpillar and butterfly existing at the same time–her family opposed the adoption and, after 24 awful hours, gave the sweet baby girl to a distant relative.

We were–are–crushed.

We will pick up the pieces, of course, and we will continue down this path.

But all of these experiences, each one that piles on top of the other, it’s metamorphosing.

Things are changing, us included.

Part of that, for me anyway, has been avoiding this space. It’s a mistake, of course. I need to tell our story. (It’s like what Joan Didion wrote: “I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.”)

I often think that some stories don’t fit here because they aren’t exactly about dogs. Dogs are just part of it. But that’s true for all of us, isn’t it? Sometimes our dogs are center stage. Sometimes they’re supporting cast. But they’re always a piece of the story.

First, my usual disclaimers: I’m not a vet. I’m not a vet tech. I’m not in any capacity involved in any sort of medical field. I’m a writer and avid researcher who’s crazy obsessed with providing my dogs the best life possible. I’m simply sharing our experiences in the hopes that it might inspire someone else. Also, I mention a handful of products in this post. Every single product mentioned–except one, which I call out below–I purchased with my own money. The retailer I shop almost exclusively for him I love so much that I have become an affiliate partner with them, so if you purchase from one of the links I share, you won’t pay a cent more (in fact, you’ll pay less because I share some coupon codes at the end), but this site gets a teeny, tiny commission we use to offset the costs of running the site. I buy all of that from Only Natural Pet, again with my own money. Finally, none of this is medical advice or should be construed as such. Call your vet. Always the best place to start.

Whew! OK, now that that’s done, let’s dig in, shall we? I’ve broken this into sections knowing it would be kinda long, so skip around to find whatever info you need! Or, grab a cuppa something tasty, and settle in for a long read…

Senior Dogs and Mobility: An Overview

So, there are a number of issues that can cause mobility problems in senior dogs. For many, it’s arthritis and related problems. We actually thought that was the case for Em. We had him examined thoroughly, first by his regular vet who did think his issues maybe stemmed from arthritis, then by a neurologist at Purdue (where he goes for his cancer treatment) and by a sports rehab vet. Ultimately it was determined that his issues are neurological and not arthritis. However, if you’re wondering about signs and symptoms or if your dog could benefit from treatment, take a few minutes to read this super comprehensive article that we started with: Joint Health for Cats and Dogs.

Since arthritis and joint-related problems are the most common, definitely start there with your vet. If those issues are ruled out, neuro problems could be to blame. For Em, it’s a combo. It started with a slight tremor in his back legs. Initially there was some concern that it was cancer-related, but that was ruled out. Then, the sports rehab vet took a look–it was a super thorough, hour-long physical exam–and called out some arthritis along his spine that’s causing some nerve issues. The rest seems to be entirely neurological. So, for instance, his front left foot is perfectly healthy. His joints are fluid; there’s no arthritis. Yet, it gets stuck flipped upside down, and he tips forward and falls. His back right foot does something similar where he’s walking along and all of a sudden, it doesn’t plant paw down. Instead, the foot doesn’t turn up so he ends up dragging that leg.

Those orthopedic and neurological issues are among the most common reasons for loss of mobility in senior dogs, but they’re not all. There are all sorts of other possibilities ranging from muscle loss to pain to respiratory diseases to cancer to cognitive function disorders… and more. That’s why I want to again emphasize: Start with your vet to determine the cause of your senior dog’s mobility problems.

All that said, there are solutions to just about every problem. I’m going to share some of ours for Emmett’s orthopedic and neurological combo platter.

Food, Supplements, Medications

An ounce of prevention and whatnot… But that’s not always possible, right? We adopted Emmett when he was already a full-grown adult. And, anyway, health problems can still crop up regardless of lifestyle. There’s always a story about a competitive athlete contracting cancer or a life-long smoker living to 100. There are MANY factors that contribute to overall health, including genetics’ huge role, over which we have no control.

For years Emmett was on a joint supplement that we liked as a preventative measure. Unfortunately, it just didn’t hold up to the significance of his current issues. We had Lucas on a powerful, effective joint supplement after his amputation, so it made sense to switch Em to that one, just to see. It worked. I would still recommend the one Em was on before, but now, honestly, I tell everyone: DGP. It’s not cheap, but it works. The other one, Vetri-Science Glyco-Flex Joint Support, is far more affordable, and I completely understand budget constraints so you can always start there and then ramp up, if needed. It’s a good supplement, just not for Em anymore.

{{Incidentally, Cooper is on a preventative joint supplement, but he had allergic reactions to both of those, so he’s on Diggin Your Dog Super Snouts Joint Support, which I’ll share in detail in a coming post about HIS health routine! It’s also less costly than the DGP so could be worth a shot, though I’ve never tried it with Em.}}

Emmett also receives a weekly acupuncture treatment. I know we’re SO lucky to have that resource available to us. I truly hope that, as demand for these additional modes of treatment grows, it becomes more widely available because I do think it’s helped him tremendously. If you want to learn more, I wrote about it in detail here: Can dogs benefit from acupuncture?

The acupuncture vet also prescribed him Gabapentin, which is actually a seizure med, but it’s used to treat chronic pain. It absolutely helps him. However, it took us a few tries to get his dosing right. Side effects include turning your poor old dog into a drunk monkey. TBH, we tried three doses per day because he seemed to be in more pain at night, so we went for an 8 hour instead of 12 hour spread. It did NOT work. Drunk monkey. So, he’s still on the Gabapentin every 12 hours and we’ve added Tramadol as needed, which isn’t often.

In addition, he gets a heap of coconut oil (it’s supposed to fix everything, so it can’t hurt), plus a senior-specific vitamin powder, Only Natural Pet Senior Ultimate Daily Vitamins, and he and Cooper both get a probiotic, Only Natural Pet Probiotic Blend, at breakfast and dinner because some studies have shown that probiotics might reduce the cause of inflammation and joint pain. Again, can’t hurt.

He’s on a whole host of other medications for his cancer treatment, so we worked with our vets to make sure all these supplements wouldn’t interfere, nothing would react, and all the benefits of each piece outweighed the risks or side effects. I’m super happy with this routine, and we haven’t changed a thing about it in a couple years (except adding the acupuncture, which has still been like a year).

As for food, I’ve written about it extensively, so you guys know he’s been eating Wellness CORE Grain-Free Dry Dog Food exclusively for about a year, though we did recently switch him to the reduced-fat version because one of the things with dogs and mobility issues is WEIGHT! You want your dog to be slim and trim so that he isn’t having to heft around extra pounds on sore, stiff, painful joints. Emmett isn’t overweight, but he’s also not capable of exercise like he used to (a walk to the mailbox and back is it for him), so the risk of gaining compelled me to try this formula. So far, so good.

All that works from the inside, though, so what do you do about the actual, physical needs?

Support Equipment

Around the house: We have rugs everywhere. There’s a path from the back door, through the kitchen, to the living room, and from there to the front door. (Yet he somehow finds a way to land on the little spots between the rugs to slip and fall a thousand times a day…) He eats out of a raised feeding dish (the same NeaterFeeder we’ve used since 2010!) so he doesn’t have to lean forward. Side note: I was thinking about doing a FB Live tour of our accommodations for Em… would anyone be interested in that??

We are also committed fans of ToeGrips, and I recommend them high and low. He used them for probably about a year before his decline exceeded their abilities, unfortunately. They worked incredibly well for around the house and vet visits, though, right up until the end of last year when he even started to slip with them on.

Next came boots. He’s currently wearing the Ruffwear Sumitt Trex boots (which I linked here to my Amazon affiliate page because we bought them at a local retailer and paid $10 more than what’s available on Amazon… sigh) because they have a substantial rubber sole that provides a lot of traction for him. We keep him in the back pair most of the time and add the fronts when we leave the house. We take them off every night and clean his feet. I wish we could leave the fronts on, too, but where the Velcro sits rubs his foot right at his dewclaw. Ouch. I’m ordering another set from another retailer later this week for comparison and will let you know, but so far, these are the best we’ve tried.

Finally, the GingerLead. Two disclosures right up front: First, I met the incredible, kind, thoughtful GingerLead folks at BlogPaws last year. They are the real deal. I actually talked to them about how much I wish I had known about their product with Lucas and only mentioned in passing that Em was starting to face mobility issues. They so very kindly sent me two–in two different sizes–to see what worked for him.

The second disclosure: The first time we tried it with him, it did NOT go well. He was like, “Get this thing off of me, and why are you standing so close while I go to the bathroom?!” He’s always been weird about not going, particularly #2, when people are close. He’ll go to the verrry extent of his leash or the furthest spot in the yard or park to go, so it was weird for him at first. And, at that time, he didn’t really need much support. The ToeGrips were working, so we sort of said… OK, we’ll revisit this if we need to.

And, boy, did we. I’ve never been more grateful to a single product in all my pet-owning life. The GingerLead enabled us to take Emmett to his favorite park last weekend for a “walk” (OK, by walk, it’s really sniff around the path for a few then lay in the sun, but still!).

Now that he’s getting weaker, it enables us to help him navigate the vet’s office and, if he does stumble while going to the bathroom, we can catch him. It took some getting-used-to on his part, but we’re in good shape now. He walks down the driveway to get the mail with me, then he rests at the mailbox, and I can use the GingerLead to assist him to his feet to walk back to the house. And, on his super weak days–usually after a long day at Purdue or like his big adventure to the park this past weekend–we can use the lead to help him onto his bed or up the steps or whatever. Honestly, this product fills a much-needed gap in the mobility market. I’m SO grateful for it.

And, since they so generously gifted me with TWO, I would love to pass it on. At the very bottom of this post is a Rafflecopter widget with all the details of the giveaway! 🙂

The Bottom Line

No matter what’s causing your senior dog’s mobility issues, there is very likely some way you can support him! For us, it’s a combo of supplements, medications, and support equipment. We want him to be as happy and comfortable for all the days he has left, and I’m so grateful we’ve found each of these individual solutions to come together to support him in a big way.

I think I hit on everything… or, at least, I hope I addressed all the comments and questions I’ve been getting on my other posts about Emmett and aging. If I missed anything or you want additional info or detail about anything I mentioned here, please don’t hesitate to leave your Qs in the comments below!

And if you’ve been on the supporting end of a senior dog and mobility issues, I’d love to know: What solutions did you find? What worked for you and your pup? We can all help each other by sharing our stories!a Rafflecopter giveaway

In fact, we make an effort to separate them on occasion because, well, Emmett’s not going to be around forever, and Cooper needs to learn to be alone. When we walk one, the other sits at the door and waits. When one wants to go outside, the other goes, whether they needed/wanted to or not.

That said…

They got into a fight Monday night.

Like, a fight fight. And, it’s the second one this month.

Honestly, I’ve waffled about sharing this story for a couple reasons, but let’s first back up a bit…

Way back when Lucas was sick, after his amputation, Emmett and Cooper got in several fights at dinnertime over the span of a couple months. We were shocked because they’ve always gotten along so perfectly. We thought maybe something else was going on, so we talked to our vet, and she gave them the all-clear medically but said that, with Lukey’s illness, it wasn’t all that surprising. She said stress, changes in routine, all of it, could easily cause tensions to flare.

So, we instituted the mat system to keep them separate at dinnertime, and that was pretty much that.

Until now.

It’s sort of the same scenario, though entirely different. Emmett’s mobility diminishes each day.

{{I’m going to write more about that in full in another post. Truth: It’s sort of why I’ve been avoiding writing anything because it’s a lot to process. But… soon…}}

He falls. A lot. He’s wearing boots and a GingerLead almost always. Our routine has changed to accommodate him. And, I don’t know, Cooper is SUCH a sensitive little guy. He is super smart, for sure, but he’s always been reactive… guided by his emotions, not his head.

A couple weeks ago, I was cleaning the kitchen. I had my headphones on listening to an audiobook (Everyone Brave is Forgiven… you guys, after like 11 hours of listening, I didn’t like it. Sigh.). The dogs follow me everywhere all the time, so–of course–they were puttering around my feet.

They were both behind me while I cleaned the counter, and so I have no idea how it started, but in a flash John was running in from the living room and we were pulling them apart.

Neither dog was hurt, thank goodness. But.

It’s always devastating when your dogs fight, you know? We were more shaken than they were because literally within 30 seconds they were totally back to normal, like nbd.

Fast forward to Monday night. John and I were sitting on the couch, watching Friends reruns on Netflix, eating boxes of Girl Scout cookies (yeah… boxes… plural… #noshame). The dogs were puttering around, as usual. Somehow they both ended up between the coffee table and the couch, and I don’t know if it was that Emmett was losing his balance or that we had cookies in hand or who knows what, but again… a flash, and we’re pulling them apart.

This time, Cooper has an injury… sort of a split/fat lip.

Sigh.

And, to be totally honest, I hesitated to write about this because I sort of feel like it’s shameful. Here I am, a pet industry professional, with my own dogs getting into fights. Plus, I’m sensitive about the crowd that crows about them being pit bulls, you know? But, I was talking to a blogger buddy, and she said something like, “You have to write about this because I bet a lot of people who experience this don’t know where to go for help.”

Well, fair enough.

So, here’s a bit of help: Luckily (?) I had the opportunity to research and write about how to stop a dog fight a couple years ago, so I have the tools at my disposal. If you’re facing this in your house, or at the dog park or whatever, go read that piece.

My advice, which I’m trying very hard to take for myself, is to gather some perspective. In our case, I think it’s a matter of perspective, anyway. If your dogs are constantly going at each other or injuring each other, seek a professional, science-based trainer ASAP. Safety is the most important thing, for you and for your dogs, so keep them separate until you can work with a pro.

If you’re like us, where it’s situational, try to identify the triggers. I think we have an overarching stress factor that we can’t really combat right now, but we can be extra cautious when there’s food around since that’s been the consistent trigger for them.

Practice the wheelbarrow technique in the article above, if that makes you feel better. I’ve been thinking about, too, how my siblings and I used to fight. Things that wouldn’t normally push your buttons, on a bad day can totally send you over the edge, and it’s the same for our dogs.

Take deep breaths.

That’s what I’m working on, anyway.

Have your dogs ever fought? Have you ever had to break up a dog fight?

Please do share your experiences in the comments! As my friend pointed out, this community helps us all realize… we’re not alone in our crazy, devoted love for our dogs, even when they behave like idiots.